


Nuts in My Mouth

by yoshitakamine



Category: DC - Fandom, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26445511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshitakamine/pseuds/yoshitakamine
Summary: Bruce decides Jason and Dick need to spend some quality bonding time together, desperately, and so he does what any good father would do; force them to interview applicants for a PA position for Wayne enterprises. Two Robins with one stone.
Kudos: 34





	Nuts in My Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Give the title the benefit of the doubt and me some merit, I promise it's not what you think. Stupid? Yes? Funny? Only to me? Also yes. Hope it makes someone other than me laugh, enjoy <3

The unfortunate applicant had been going back and forth between staring at the two men, the resemblance between them almost uncanny for adopted siblings. The one on the right, _Dick Grayson_ , the prodigal Wayne son, wore his glossy hair in airy layers that framed his immaculate, chiseled jawline. A tuft fell neatly on his right eye, and the ocean blue of his irises pierced right through them whenever he asked them a question. He was _too_ good-looking not to make your average male self-conscious. Not that that was his _only_ quality. As if a God had been a patron of his since birth, Dick Grayson was sculpted, nay, had emerged from the foamy sea like he was the one Bjork was talking about in ‘ _Venus as a Boy’_. This interview for a position as Bruce Wayne’s PA had turned into a competition between every man walking into the room and Dick Grayson’s pearly smile. _Just_ his smile.

Much could also be said for his scowling counterpart, the quiet one save for the occasional snarky comment here and there. His looks were just as breathtaking, _excuse the corniness_ , which made many of the 20-something graduates who had come in and out the interview, question whether Bruce Wayne had been picking them out from a modelling agency for unfortunate but physically blessed orphans like himself. Jason Todd, however, was not willing to entertain whoever was sitting on the chair opposite to them. You would think growing up with a butler would rub off on you one way or the other, but Jason was a failed _debutante,_ so to say, through and through. Something he took pride in.

Dick perused the CV in front of him. “So let’s see-“ his eyes skimmed through the laminated paper. He chuckled at the pointless and frankly unsustainable use of it. The applicant rubbed their nape. CVs aren’t _exactly_ stand-up comedy material, so that was not a good sign. Dick noticed, raising his gaze at eye-level to look at them. He didn’t mean it like _that._ He also couldn’t really share his thoughts, so he settled for a vacuous smile of reassurance. It was just a funny thing to him. Anything to give them an added advantage, anything that made them look like they had it together even though from his personal experience, you’re everything _but_ a model of competence in your 20s. ‘It’s _okay_ to be a mess’ he wanted to say. “Graduated with honors, a marketing major with a minor in PR, took interest in this position because-“

“Let’s cut to the chase, how many _coffees_ do you know how to make?” Jason decidedly grabbed the paper from Dick’s hands and slammed it on the table, putting an end to the sort of trance Dick was in. “And you might be thinking, unorthodox way to conduct an interview, right? But _buddy_ , Bruce is a busy man and what do busy men do if not keep themselves caffeinated 24/7?”

The applicant had not spoken a word, their fists clenched between their thighs. Strike one was whatever joke had creeped its way into their CV, now, without even getting to strike two, it was strike _out_. It was as if Dick was good cop and Jason was bad cop in this equation, only Jason’s bad cop was something akin to Chris Tucker’s in _Rush Hour_ , if he hated cops and lifted enough weights to prove just _how_ much he did. He wasn’t gargantuan by any means, but you could tell Jason Todd was blessed with the rare gift of knocking someone out cold evidenced by the width of his midriff. _Core exercises can be mean sons of-_

“I mean _come on_ , even I’ve worked as a barista.” Jason cooed “I think everyone our age has worked as a barista. It’s honest work.”

‘ _You haven’t set foot in a coffee shop, Jason_ ’ Dick wanted to interject, but kept his expression as vacant as he could, while sipping his decaf. ‘ _The most you’ve done is drop too much Splenda in Bruce’s coffee._ ’

Jason continued terrorizing them with boomer-sounding advice of varying degrees, ranging from constructive criticism on the typeface they had used on their CV to ‘back-in-my-day’-isms even though Jason was tip-toeing twenty-three. At least it allowed Dick to get lost in his thoughts for a bit. Much needed peace.

In retrospect, he should’ve known that this would be a huge mistake on Bruce’s part. Jason shows up unannounced and he jumps on the opportunity to include him in family matters. Bruce was either too confident nobody would bother to connect the dots between the boy wonder who disappeared years ago, his face on every milk carton, and the 20-something Jason Peter Todd sitting in the world’s squeakiest chair on the ground floor of Wayne tower or Alfred had just worked his magic with him again. It was anybody’s guess really.

“So, I’ll ask again. What’s the ratio to creamer and espresso? Trick question by the way, we are _not_ playing around here in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“ _Jason_ ” Dick pressed and grabbed his shoulder, tightly, so as to make a statement and turned his attention to the interviewee again. “I’m _sorry_ , about my brother-“ he gritted his teeth. “We’ll give you a call, have a good day.”

The few seconds of silence were disturbed by Jason again, because frankly he was enjoying himself a bit too much. “I think I did a bang-up job with this one.” He hooted.

Dick kicked his chair with the bottom half of his sole, unprovoked, sending him rolling to one of the parched potted plants on either side of the double doors looming ominously over them.

“Real fucking mature Grayson.” Jason cleaned off the dirt from his sloppily ironed suit pants, turning his attention to Dick. “And real imaginative with the whole “Wayne’s wards” thing. Bonus points for tugging on the heart of some wannabe yuppie. Very moving.”

“Wow you are _so_ bitter aren’t you. You just can’t imagine anyone actually considering you family. I wonder how much a Wayne foundation appointed therapist would cost you without the family member discount.” Dick could be just as barbarically sarcastic as Jason and sometimes he took this as a challenge. The younger Robin was spunky, very much so, with a glaring disdain for everything Wayne related. Only not really, because Dick knew the on-the-nose contempt he held for Bruce and him was just a front; a way for him to distance himself from a family he didn’t feel part of for a long time now. You’re brutally murdered by a psychotic clown and it’s radio silence for 5 years and suddenly you get invited to the annual neighborhood cook out, a euphemism for events that required Bruce’s polished family image. You’re wearing a suit and tie, sipping water from a limited-edition Voss glass bottle while your older “brother” is keeping watch. Ostentatious, pompous, criminally _overrated_. Jason would make it a point to be unforgiving with words.

Jason didn’t quip back, he didn’t feel like taking it there.

Dick noted the silence and looked at him for a split second, looked at the way the white forelock of his hair fell on his eyebrow and made the spot itch every time. Jason left a trail of red skin over his forehead from scratching it roughly with his fingernails. Most people thought it was poliosis, Dick thought that maybe, after he was resurrected, his first stop was Walgreen’s, hair dye aisle, and it made him laugh. Jason caught him staring and looked away.

“That’s creepy, Grayson.”

“It’s Dick.”

“You sure are.” Dick rolled his eyes at that and plucked the files from Jason’s unassuming hands. 

“Ever figure out what did _that-_ ” Dick pointed to his own tousled locks, afraid Jason might take offense to anything remotely physical.

He chuckled. “Is _that_ what you were staring at?” he spinned around once in his chair then pushed himself off the desk and next to a file cabinet. “Well it certainly isn’t poliosis, unless something altered my genetics which, you know, anything’s possible when you can rise from the dead. It’s also probably not vitiligo, unless, it’s a _really_ isolated spot and-“

Jason noticed Dick was staring at him again, his wide blue eyes unblinking. “Okay are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or why you’re staring at me like that? Seriously, dude, it’s freaky.”

“I just think you’re far too intelligent for your own good and maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, that’s all.”

“A very effective pep talk, I’m moved to tears.”

“I’m serious Jason, stop being so uptight for a second. It’s okay.”

Jason’s brows furrowed at that last line, like Dick was implying something he absolutely did not like. “ _What’s_ okay, exactly?”

“This. Us. Bruce. I mean have you ever stopped to think about how Alfred _always_ asks about you?”

“Okay and? I obviously care about the man too, last week I sent him those packs of herbal tea and everything. Darjeeling _straight_ from India. I mean I did- I _might’ve_ ” Jason trailed off “been trying to pick a shipment from these drug dealers who were using the containers to smuggle cocaine into Gotham but-“

Dick went quiet, letting Jason ramble. He thought, that, maybe, he had brought up something he shouldn’t have, like opening up a can of endless, very stubborn and foul-mouthed worms. Jason did care about Alfred, as did he. They were brought up entirely by him, Bruce just simply tried his best to comply with Alfred’s parenting tips. The bats in the cave had made for more interesting conversational partners truth be told. Jason was still going on about the goons he had to fight off during his chance encounter with the tea crate that would make for Alfred’s gift, bow on top and all, and Dick was completely spaced out when he noticed the bubbles sticking to the top of Jason’s water bottle.

“I thought you hated sparkling water.” Dick blurted out while Jason was still mid-sentence.

“ _Oh_ \- What? I still do, actually, why?”

Dick pointed to the bottle placed carelessly on a black cork coaster with the letter ‘W’ in bold. The ‘water’ was practically foaming.

“Did you… spike my ..water?” Jason deadpanned, loosening up his tie as if he had immediately felt the effect of whatever he had drank.

“Yes, I crushed some xanax and crystal meth in my villainous mortar before Alfred dropped us off.” Dick’s comment wasn’t nearly as cutting as it would’ve been if he hadn’t been frantically moving the liquid around trying to figure out what it was, throwing glances at Jason and his increasingly flushed face.

“Quit being a smartass and send a sample to Lucius or Alfred- or _anyone_ -“ Jason had been sweating over his shirt and his breath had began to quicken.

“Calm down, I’m on it.” Dick reassured him, only to flip the cap open and chug down the remainder of his water.

Jason just stared at him in horror. “Are you INSANE?”

Dick smiled at him, in the self-assured way he always would only this time Jason was certain his question was rhetorical and Dick Grayson was actually out of his mind. “ _No_ , I’m just fairly certain this aqueous solution is, in fact-“ Dick pursed his lips together and smacked them “-vitamin water I added pop rocks to. You are so gullible, little bird.”

“What the FUCK did you do that for?” Jason spat out, cleaning his tongue with the back of his palm. “There are millions of ways to kill me and you pick _that_ one? _Cardiac arrest_?”

“ _Please_ , there was a moral to this.”

Jason had moved across him, flipping the water cooler dispenser back and forth into his flimsy plastic cup. “ _Oh by all means enlighten me Grayson_.” He drank the cold water within seconds while maintaining eye contact with him, a poor attempt at aggression, to Dick’s mind. He was pissed, true, but _he_ was the one who began sweating over _pop-rocks_.

“You need us more than you know. Your first instinct was to literally call home.” Dick stressed that last word. _Home_. “Was I an asshole? _Sure_ , but you’ve played far worse pranks on me so don’t even go there.”

Jason stared at him, contemplating whether to punch him or break both his arms _before_ he burned down his apartment in Bludhaven. “I honestly can’t think of a _damn_ thing from our childhood that could rival this, Dick.”

“ _Sure you can_.” He countered, gimlet-eyed. “November 26, Thanksgiving at the manor. You dropped a handful of _pine nuts_ in the stuffing. You _knew_ I’m deathly allergic to pine nuts. Alfred had to stab me in the jugular with the epi-pen because I had literal seconds before going into anaphylactic shock.”

Jason tried not to snicker, biting down his lip. “But what you _didn’t_ know, or _don’t_ , is-“ he continued, eyes watering from holding back his laughter “ _I_ had left that epi-pen there. Would I pile on the agony if I told you I just wanted to see what would happen if you had eaten those nuts? Blame it on the frivolities of youth.”

“Oh that’s _lovely_ Jason.” Dick’s brows were bumped together in a frown to rival all frowns but it was so long ago and Dick wasn’t one to hold grudges. “We’re _not_ even, not by a long shot, but giving you the same kind of scare Alfred and Bruce got back then was worth it.”

“I bet it was. But-“ Jason grinned “I’m gonna have to report you to HR for this little funky incident.”

Dick laughed at the odd use of ‘funky’. “You don’t work here, remember?”

“Ah hah, _Jason Todd_ doesn’t work here. Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s ward however-”

Dick’s smile suddenly dropped. “You wouldn’t-“

“Wouldn’t I? I can already see the report. Executive Richard John Grayson attempts to poison innocent colleague-”

It was a 5-second jump from their desk to the door, Dick almost tripping over the narrow carpet in an attempt to grab hold of Jason. It reminded him of the endless hallways in the manor they’d play cops and robbers in, hiding behind large marble pillars.


End file.
